


The Complexity of Magic

by MadameSera



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Blind Character, Blindness, Dalish Elves, Depression, Elf Mage, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Femslash, Slow Burn, Trauma, Violence, dalish elf mage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9175225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameSera/pseuds/MadameSera
Summary: Life as a mage is hard. Life as a elven mage is another matter. Isolde has spent her entire life in the Circle and now she is a Warden and in the company of the strangest group of people imaginable. After an incident at the Tower, Isolde is left permanently blind with no one there to aid her. She now has to face impossible odds to defeat an Archdemon whilst also sort through her feelings for the other redhead in her Party.Slow Burn!Originally from ff.net - ported over





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, this is me finally porting over my started fic from ff.net under the same title. I posted a oneshot not that long ago called 'Campfire Confessions' which is a tie in to the story and will probably be incorporated later on as well.   
> Warning! This is not an insta romance and you wont find any in works. I hate them and don't plan on jumping ship on that issue anytime soon.   
> Warning 2.0! My Warden is a female dalish elf mage. This is not canon in Origins but I couldn't resist. So yes, that does mean this is femslash if you missed that when you clicked on this story. So turn back now if that's not your thing. 
> 
> Disclaimer - Everyone you recognise belongs to Bioware. Isolde is mine however.

The Circle of Magi exists to protect mages from a world that fears them, or so the young apprentices are told when they are brought to the Tower. In truth, it exists as much to protect the world from the mages themselves. A time once existed when mages ruled the known world, known as the Tevinter Imperium, bringing down ruin upon their enemies until at last they were overthrown. Now, the Chantry dictates that mages are watched carefully by the Templars, mage-hunters aligned with the Chantry priests and work for the Divine, who would not hesitate to strike down any mage at the first sign of corruption.

For the temptations offered to mages are many. Their powers draws demons and makes them an easy target for those who reside in the Fade. Demons that will attempt to wrest control of a mages body and transform them into a vile abomination. What these demons cannot take by force they will attempt to take through deceit, offering knowledge of forbidden blood magic that allows a mage to control the minds of others and use their very life force to fuel their powers, leading them down a dark and destructive path. A path that all Templars are watchful for.

All apprentices are taught to resist these temptations in the Circle of Magi, and the day comes when they must pass their final test: the Harrowing.

They are thrown to the wolves, with the only comfort in the knowledge that if they haven't the willpower to defeat the demon, it will not be able to control them as they will immediately die at Templar hands.

For you see, the Harrowing takes place in the Fade. The realm of demons and all sorts of monsters. It is there that everyone goes when they sleep. The mage, with no knowledge or preparation, is asked to slay the demon and resist temptation.

For many, this is the only way to ensure that 'good' and 'bad' mages are separated. A 'good' mage will refuse and be able to defeat it, and thus ensure their safety form Tranquility. Whilst a 'bad' mage will not be allowed to continue their existence if they cannot defeat their demon and its temptations.

However, if the apprentice refuses or shows signs of not being able to carry out their Harrowing, they are made Tranquil, cut off from all emotion and magic and rendered unable to be possessed for their own good. An option, considered by many, a fate worse than death.

There are no other options, save to flee and be branded an apostate and thus hunted by the Templars forever.

Welcome to the Circle of Magi, and life as a mage, where the power to command the forces of magic come with a price. Welcome to Isolde Surana's life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll get to the good stuff soon. World building takes time. xx

Demons. They were everywhere. No matter in what direction she turned they all stared, following. There was no escaping their ever watchful gaze.

A darkness lay beyond. Moving closer and closer. Her small body seemed to crumble at the weight of its darkness. Her irises expanded and her pointed ears twitched.

She could hear a humming noise nearby. A constant ring that made her senses dull and caused her head to pound.

Her hands clutched at the wooden staff. It seemed such a futile weapon in the face of such enemies. Nonetheless, she gripped it so tightly that her knuckles turned white and her fingers started to cramp. Her mage robes seemed to cling to her body, as the sweat coating her body caused it to become a second, uncomfortable skin.

Just as she was about to be swallowed by her fear and the darkness, the ringing stopped and another noise replaced it.

"Child! Child can you hear me?!" She clearly identified it as a male. But who could reach her in the place?

Slowly her body seemed to loosen. Whereas before it was taunt and ready, it now felt like someone had commanded her muscles to co-operate.

Her mind cleared and she looked around her properly for the first time. Before her was darkness, whilst behind there was light. Dim, but light all the same.

Hands, decrepit and deformed, grabbed at her arms and yanked at her, pulling on her robes and hair trying to engulf her with their darkness.

She screamed.

Violently, she twisted in the demons hands and flayed her arms about, hoping to loosen its grip on her. Her staff fell to the floor and vanished.

Whimpering she desperately began struggling until suddenly the demons lost their hold and she collapsed to floor.

Hastily, to scrambled across the cold surface, stumbling to her feet and ran as fast as she could towards the light. She flinched when horrible screams of protest began behind her as the demons tried to hold onto her again. This only caused her to run faster, tripping on her robe as she went.

Brighter and brighter the light became until the dark greens and black of the Fade washed away to be replaced by calming blues and yellows.

She could finally breath properly again and she inhaled deeply as the smell of lavender and pine surrounded her. However, her eyes remained shut. No matter how hard to tried to open her eyes and see what was before her, she could not. Would not, for fear that the demons would return and take her away into the darkness forever.

With no warning she was pulled. Pulled away from the smell of wildlife and the sound of the ocean. No, she could her someone breathing heavily above her and could hear a din in the background.

"Child, can you hear me?" It was the same voice as before! Where was he? It seemed to be coming from above her. Still unwilling to open her eyes, her arms reached upwards desperately, seeking the person who called for her.

A calloused hands gripped hers tightly to her right and she held on tightly. She tried to open her eyes now. The fear had lessened. But she couldn't.

Panic was rising in her breast. Why couldn't she open her eyes!? Why couldn't she see!?

"My dear, you must calm yourself. You have had quite the ordeal and have been injured. If you move, you risk further inflicting injury upon yourself."

"Irving! Step away from her! She may be under the influence of blood magic!"

Blood magic? What was going on!

"Gregoir you are mad to think that I would abandon this mage to her fate when I have the capability to help her! Now Knight Captain, I suggest that you step aside so I can assist her."

She could hear a grumble in protest before footsteps receded further away from her. Large, calloused hands covered her eyes and a series of chants were said. She had studied little Creation Magic so knew not the spell the First Enchanter was muttering.

"My dear, open your eyes for me, if you can."

She forced herself to try. Her hands clenched into fists and she started to break into a cold sweat. Slowly, utterly slowly, her eyes fluttered open hesitantly. A yet... she saw nothing.

"Oh child... I am sorry."

No... no no no no no! Why couldn't she see! What had happened to her!

"What is happening?" Her voice was merely a whimper.

"The apprentice Jowan used blood magic to escape the Tower. The blast hit you full force and you have been unconscious since. Do you remember?"

Yes, she did. Lily, Jowan, the Phylacteries. Their stupid plan. She had warned them of their folly! And this is where it lead her.

"Can you help me?" The desperation in her voice scared her. Never had she begged. Not when she was forced to share a room with other scared human apprentices. Not when she was taken from her forest and way from her parents by the Templars. Never.

But now she did. This was what Jowan forced her to lower herself to.

"I have done all I can do my dear. I am sorry. Magic can do many wonders, but injuries caused by blood magic are permanent. I have done all I can do to ease your pain, however."

Blind. She was blind. She was doomed to a world of darkness. Of the never ending blackness. She could not imagine a worse fate. Even Tranquil mages kept all their senses.

"I am sorry."

With that, First Enchanter Irving left her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – The Offer

The Ferelden Circle. A tower that housed and protected mages for ages past and also the home of Ferelden's Templar Order. Her abode was as dull as ever. The stone slabs were the same generic and depressing grey and the corridors were always a frigid temperature all year round. The books on magical theory were still stored in the same locations in the library and the drapes that hung from the windows were that horrible mustard colour. Honestly, what had they been thinking when they had purchased them? The apprentices were still housed on the lower floors and a new batch of apprentices made their way through these halls every so often. The Tranquil still made their way through the corridors mindlessly with the same expressionless face that terrified the younger mages. Everything looked and was the same. At least, she assumed it was.

It had been nearly a year since the 'incident' and life had continued. The Templars returned unsuccessful from their hunt for Jowan. A feet that surprised her greatly if she was honest with herself. Jowan was pathetic at hiding so she assumed he had had outside help. Another thing he hadn't told her about. Alongside his Creators cursed blood magic.

Isolde flopped back gracelessly onto her four poster bed and heaved a giant sigh. Unknowingly her hand reached up and traced the raised scars surrounding her eyes. The scars surrounded the entirety of her eye socket and touched the top of her prominent cheek bones. They extended to just below her eyebrows. She knew her eyes, a once deep green, were now a milky slate grey colour due to her vision being robbed from her. If she were to hazard a guess, her scars were a fleshy pink colour that stood out against her slightly tan skin. These reminders were a parting gift from her 'dearest friend' Jowan. The stupid idiot apprentice who ripped away her eyesight and was the cause of her nearly being subjected to the Rite of Tranquillity. He was a fool.

Feeling anger bubble and build in her stomach like a furnace, she sat up and rubbed her face, taking deep breath to calm the rage that arose every time she thought of her former friend.

Mumbling from the hallway caught her attention. Raising her head and concentrating on the noise, she heard the faint sounds of someone heading down the corridor towards her room. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. No one came to this part of the Tower. The apprentices should be in lessons at the moment and her own students knew to seek her out later on when she would be helping them study in the library.

Thinking it may be one of the few new apprentices, she reached for her staff leaning against the wall beside her bed and used it to 'feel' her way towards the door. She knew the layout of the room like the back of her hand so she reached the door with little difficulty and turned left down the corridor towards the noise. She had just turned around the bend in the corridor when she was suddenly knocked off her feet.

"Oomph!"

"Ugh!"

Her body made a violent collision with the concrete floor. Cursing the idiot who was clearly more blind than she was, she stretched out from her crumpled position and got on her hands and knees looking for her staff that had flown out of her hand.

"Looking for this?" a sheepish voice said above her. She rose to her feet, nearly catching herself on her robes.

"Idiot! Watch where you're going next time!" She said angrily. She reached out towards the voice and felt the gnarled wood of her staff being offered to her. Snatching it back, she steadied herself on her feet, dusting off her robes and feeling for bruises. Great. Now she didn't know which end of the corridor she was facing and was disorientated. She couldn't storm off in a rage, in the fear that she was walking in the wrong direction.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there." The person stumbled an apology.

"Clearly." Her voice was biting. The voice appeared to be male by the sounds of it. It was slightly too deep for it to be an elfs and he appeared to be taller than her as well. So, the voice belonged to a human. Brilliant.

"It's just, umm, I was walking and the, err, you know. I just walked into you and again I'm sorry for that. Duncan is always telling me to get out of my own head and watch where I'm going. He, umm, always warns me about this situation happening to me, umm."

Ugh! He was a talker. Her least favourite type of Shem. She interrupted before he could carry on, "Who's your mentor mage? I need to talk to them about teaching their students some man-"

"Mage?" He cut her off. "No, no sorry. I just thought the armour gave it away. I'm Alistair. I'm here with my Commander Duncan. We're Grey Wardens."

Wardens? Why on earth would Grey Wardens be in the Tower? Most of the senior mages and Enchanters had already left to answer the Kings call to join his army in the South. Surely they couldn't require more? 20 mages had already left the Tower.

The man blabbered on, "It's just that the First Enchanter asked me to…" He trailed off.

She had risen her head and he had caught sight of her scars for the first time. Normally her hair would cover some of it, but today she had worn her hair back in braids, so her eyes were on full display. She could already imagine his expression. Eyes wide and mouth agape like a fish. She had experienced this reaction plenty of times over the last year.

Impatient once more, she snapped, "A problem Warden? What did Irving want?" Her eyebrow cocked up.

"He -uh- he wanted me to find someone called Isolde Surana? You wouldn't happen to know who or where she is would you? All I was told was that she was an elf who would likely be in the library?"

Interesting. Irving was meeting with Grey Wardens and yet required her attendance? He probably wanted to see if she could recommend any names for mages who could go to Ostagar. She did have access to more mages than he did after all, due to her being a Mentor to several young apprentices. Names flashed through her mind. Johnathan? Natalie? Frederick- no not young Fred. He was afraid of his own shadow, never mind leaving the Tower for the uncertainty of the outside world. So, maybe Sylvia? A talented mage to be sure, a little green perhaps, but eager to prove her skill.

Remembering her company, she replied, "You're looking at her."

"Fantastic!" She could imagine a dopey smile passing his features. "I mean, umm, great! That saves me from wandering the tower, looking like an idiot. I honestly don't know how you don't get lost."

"Warden!" She was losing her patience. Who needed to speak so much and take so few breaths between each sentence? "Just take me to Irving."

He lead her down the corridor (she had in fact been facing the wrong direction, so it was a good thing she didn't storm off in a rage) and she placed herself as far away from him as she could, whilst still being able to use him as guide. The silence was awkward and she barely restrained a groan when he tried to fill it with conversation.

"Have you ever been lost before then?"

She heaved a sigh. "Warden, when you are restrained to a certain space for the rest of your life, you tend to get very well acquainted with it."

He tried again, "You can call me Alistair you know? I'm only a Junior Warden."

Her response was simple, "No." He didn't try again after that.

Together they continued down the hallway and after a few more bends they reached the First Enchanter's office. Before she could even knock, she heard raised voices through the thick oak door. That could only mean that Gregoir was involved. When would the Knight Commander learn that certain mage business didn't require his intervention. The mages were under Irvings care and he would be the one who decided what happens to them. Did the Templar have to infringe even more on what little rights and freedoms the mages had? It infuriated her to no end.

"Looks like the party started without us." Was he serious? Terrible jokes as well? The throbbing between her eyes worsened.

Knowing that due to the seemingly serious nature of the coming talk the door would be closed, she let the Warden knock. She didn't want to seem foolish by blindly reaching out for the door handle.

"…goir we've already discussed this." Well. Creators be damned. The ever calm and stoic First Enchanter sounded annoyed. That was encouraging for the talk to come/

Conversation ceased as they made their entrance. A typical response normally for her, due to the disfiguration of her face, but she guessed that that wasn't the reason this time.

"You asked for me?" She broke the silence as it seemed no one else would. She felt the Idiot stand to her right and she could feel his gaze on her face. She imagined he was trying to be 'discreet' with his curiosity. Her face was such an oxymoron. It frightened people but also drew out their curiosity. It served as a brand almost. It reminded people of the constant dangers of mages but it also served to remind others, especially mentors, the dangers of an undisciplined mage. It was more of a brand than those the Tranquil wore.

"Yes we did mage," Gregoir stated.

"I have a name and title Knight Commander. I would appreciate their use." She interrupted. She had earned her respect and she would be damned before she let one Templar, no matter their rank, forget it.

"Mentor Surana," She could imagine his face as he gritted his teeth. Maybe his face was red as well. Even if it wasn't it was an amusing image to entertain all the same. "we apologise for taking you away from your studies." No there was an insult. Her 'condition' caused her to rely on other mentors for her studies and he damn well knew that as he posted more than the required amount of Templars to watch her during her lessons. His words were also a complete lie. Templars were never sorry for causing disruptions in a mages life. Some select few even actively sought it.

"This Warden said you asked for me First Enchanter?" She ignored Gregoir. A bigger insult than one he could throw at her. She could play this game as well.

"That is correct. I asked Irving to have you collected." A deep voice to her right said. She didn't recognise it, so she assumed this was the Idiot's mentor he mentioned earlier.

"Warden Duncan I imagine?"

"Very astute, yes." She would guess he wore a slight smirk.

"This is an old friend of mine Isolde. He is Warden Commander Duncan of the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden." Irving spoke near her shoulder. She restrained a jump. She hadn't been able to pin point his location in the room thus far and hadn't expected him to be so close. She hadn't heard him approach either. Irving placed his hand on her shoulder and guided her towards a table near the fireplace. The flame causing the chill that permitted the air to lessen somewhat. Tea was poured and she placed her hand underneath her pointed chin.

Her curiosity got the better of her, "And what would the Commander of the Grey want with little 'ole me? Nearly all the senior mages have already left. I can provide some more useful names if you require them. Some have shown potential and could benefit from experience from going out into the world beyond the walls of this Tower."

"I require no names from you Serah." Duncan answered.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, "Then what is it you require of me?" She felt a heavy feeling in her stomach. A feeling she couldn't identify.

Pacing began near the fireplace. The distinct 'CHINK' of armour revealed it to be Gregoir. Or perhaps it was Duncan? She hadn't heard him move and he could also be donned in plate armour. She was honestly surprised that the Templar hadn't interrupted so far. This must be a new record.

"As you are aware, an army of Darkspawn has arisen in the South, within the Kocari Wilds. The King has already called for aid from mages from the Tower, as well as several other places across Ferelden. To help combat the Darkspawn, the king has allowed me to rebuild the Grey Wardens numbers back up. We are few in number and soon the Darkspawn will outnumber us. The Grey Wardens are needed now more than ever and also have suspicions about the emergence of these Darkspawn." Duncan's tone was deadly serious.

"You believe a Blight has begun." Her voice was flat and a weight settled in her stomach like iron. Memories of fearful whispers and dead ground flashed through her mind. She barely restrained a shiver.

"Yes." A simple but heavy response.

"What do you need me for?" She repeated her question.

"Duncan is here in the Tower recruiting," Irving answered her. "and I suggested that perhaps you might consider joining him."

"What?" She breathed. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her palms were sweaty. "You cannot be serious."

"He is deadly serious Serah. I am in need of skilled and talented individuals and Irving suggested that you would be a suitable candidate. He has told me of your talents and mages are useful in any army, what with your unique gifts. Grey Warden mages are few in number but highly skilled. I would be happy to have you join our numbers."

She was astounded. She rose from her chair and started to pace behind it. Anger soon took her.

"Do you think this is some kind of sick joke? You seem to all be missing the part where I am BLIND. It has taken a year of constant failures for me to be able to memorise this tower alone. Yet, you want me to go gallivanting across Ferelden fighting in a war zone? My heritage allows me to have better hearing but that would be for naught on a battlefield. I would not be able to see an arrow flying towards me nor a sword aimed at my head. I am useless in battle. I am a hindrance and will always be one." It hurt to say so. She was such an independent person that to admit her short comings hurt her pride more deeply than she would admit to anyone. She longed to be free of this Tower but her blindness caused those dreams to disappear altogether. It was a fantasy now. One that hurt to think about.

"This was what I warned you about Irving. You may be ignorant to the issues this mage faces, but I am not. A blind Warden? What next? A male Divine? A safe apostate? It was foolish to think this plan of yours would succeed." Gregoir was so smug and she couldn't even see his face. Her fists clenched but logic demanded that he was right.

"More than enough of our own has been sent to join the Kings army. No more need to do so. Duncan can go somewhere else for his recruits. He won't be finding any here." Gregoir continued.

"Your own Gregoir? Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages? Or are you afraid to let them out from under your Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker given gifts?" The First Enchanter was almost mocking. It was such a contrast from his usual demeanour that it caught her off guard for a second.

"How dare you suggest that…" Fury was evident in his voice. Gregoir was not used to being questioned and definitely not be a mage.

"Gentlemen please." Duncan called for order. She sat back down in her chair and sighed. Exhaustion was heavy in her bones and she wished she could return to her chambers and rest. This was not what she had expected when she had stepped out of her room earlier.

The First Enchanter and Knight Commander were quiet. Glares were probably being exchanged though. Of that she had no doubt.

"The decision is not ours to make, but hers. My offer still stands. I would be happy to have you accept my offer, but I have no need or desire to invoke the Rite of Conscription. The choice is yours." Duncan spoke to her. His words resonated within her. Very rarely had someone given her the choice to decide her fate. Most people who had had to deal with her had commanded her to do things and expected her to carry the orders out. She appreciated his words more than she thought she would.

But her answer would not change, no matter how much she wished they could.

"My answer is no, Commander Duncan. I will not join you. I would be happy to provide you with some names of mages who you may want to consider however." Her voice was flat and final.

Silence answered her. She knew this was not that the answer that Irving expected from her. He had always been aware of her desire to return to her people and to be free from constraint. She had been outspoken in the past when conversing with him. However, circumstances are different now. Circumstances that she could not change. No matter how much she wanted to. There was no escape for her. There never will be.

"My dear, are you certain?" Irving tried and failed.

"I am certain First Enchanter. My answer is final. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have lessons to teach." She rose from her chair and grabbed her staff heading towards the door.

"If you want I could escort you?" Alistair spoke for the first time.

"No. That isn't necessary." The staff hit concrete, meaning she had reached the doorway. She turned around and said, "I hope you find your recruits Duncan. May you have a swift journey from the Tower." With those parting words she exited the office, feeling her heart become heavy and her freedom slip beyond her grasp for what could be have been her one and only chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment below what you think so far xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think. xx


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